The Touch Ch. 45

The owner's wife Suzanne met us in the car park and I introduced Philippa without revealing too much about her business plans other than to say that she was planning a similar project. Suzanne Talbot was actually the managing partner of the hotel, her husband had other business interests in Bristol and she recognised Philippa almost immediately from her days as an Olympic Eventer. She was a smart if slightly austere looking woman of about forty-five with grey streaked dark hair twisted into a formal bun who was dressed in a black business trouser suit and white blouse, I had of course met her before and thought that she was a nice woman with a good grasp of business and a first class hotelier and restauranteur. She was not unattractive with a firm mature figure and eyes which sparkled when she smiled softening her otherwise rather stern face.

It was Philippa herself who opened up and explained her plans for an equestrian centre with a boutique hotel and restaurant. I was initially afraid that Suzanne might view Philippa's business project as competition but she was in fact openly enthusiastic and insisted on giving us the full tour of the hotel and grounds herself before settling us in the restaurant and promising to join us for coffee later.

The recently re-launched boutique restaurant at the Old Rectory was good, the food was very Cordon Bleu style, the chef was French, and apart from traditional grilled Aberdeen Angus steaks most of the menu had a French slant. I selected the Parsnip and Parmesan Soup and sliced Duck Breast with Green Pepper Sauce and new potatoes and Philippa chose Smoked Salmon and Avocado as a starter and Noisettes of Lamb in a red wine sauce and we shared a bottle of Mouton Cadet.

Most of our conversation revolved around Philippa's plans for the new equestrian centre and how the classic gardens at the house could be restored and enhanced to fit in with her plans for a small eight bedroom hotel, bar and restaurant. Philippa seemed enthusiastic and willing to engage in the development of the plans. I had brought my work file with me and between courses we looked at my rough ideas for the restoration of the regency gardens, which areas could be suitably enhanced for the use of hotel guests, which parts ought to be preserved and possibly replanted with species of plant that would have been part of the original gardens in the early nineteenth century as a tourist attraction. I had also included my suggestion for how the existing customer car park for the riding stables could be incorporated into a landscaped drive and car park area for both the stables and the hotel and shrubbery screens planted for guest privacy.

"Thank you so much, Jamie," Philippa enthused, "You have really put such a lot of work and thought into this and I totally love your ideas...."

"Not just mine....Maggie also had quite a bit of input..." I corrected. "And I received some historical advice and contribution from my friend at the Salisbury Civic Society about how best to present the restoration work. Anthea believes that if we put the right spin on the historic garden idea, it may be possible to get a limited amount of funding for the restoration work, possibly even a historical interest grant from the EEC. If it does turn out that John Claudius Loudon was the original landscaper then the gardens will be of major historical interest and would certainly enhance your business plans."

"So what do we do next?" Philippa asked.

"Well, with your agreement I would like to get my whole team in for a full day shortly....one Sunday.... and blitz the formal gardens with strimmers and scythes to clear all the unwanted growth and weeds and then we can start to methodically restore the flower beds and secret gardens. I was thinking we could maybe arrange something for the Sunday after next.... Make a day of it with a bit of a picnic laid on.... Your staff would be invited as well of course..."

"That sounds good but we need to do it fairly soon....I need to be showing my investors some confirmed plans and action.... A couple of them are starting to piss themselves because of these bloody rumours!"

"Rumours?" I asked.

"Oh fuck, Jamie..... You must be the only person in the county who hasn't heard.... " She snapped. Her face clouded over and I guessed that this could be at the root of what was bothering her.

"Is this something that I SHOULD know about, Philippa?" Whilst I was keen to undertake the project there was no way that I wanted to risk not getting paid or taking a loss as much as I liked Philippa personally, this had to remain a business arrangement.

"I'll tell you later," she replied as Suzanne Talbot approached our table followed by a waitress bearing a tray of coffees and brandies. "I really will tell you...." She emphasised.

"So.... Has our little hotel given you any inspiration?" Suzanne asked brightly as she joined us. I indicated that she should seek her answer from Philippa.

"It is entirely Philippa's venture," I stated, "I am just overseeing the landscaping aspects for her the way that Maggie has done for you...but as your projects are so similar I thought that you might benefit from meeting."

"I absolutely love the idea of an equestrian centre in the county," Suzanne told Philippa, "I don't know if you already know but we have linked the Old Rectory with a couple of other small high class hotels in the Southern Counties in a reciprocal arrangement to share overspill bookings, specialising in good accommodation and food for visitors playing over the local golf courses.... Once you are up and running you might wish to consider joining our little circle?"

"That sounds really interesting...." Philippa responded, "Do you and your husband ride?"

"I do sometimes, but Gerry is more into cars and 'planes....and he spends most of his time in Bristol or Dublin, he is more interested in race horses on the track than sitting in the saddle."

"Then once I have the house fit for human habitation, you must come down for the week-end to ride...."

"...and your husband, Philippa..?" Suzanne enquired. "I read in the newspaper that Señor Segura was back in England.....?"

I watched as the smile become frozen on Philippa's face but her eyes took on a steely glint. I had seen that look before when she was about to let loose with one of her fiery outbursts of anger. Something about her ex-husband being in the UK had pissed her off and she was about to blow. I galloped in to head off a confrontation between the two women.

"Perhaps, if you come down to Philippa's for the weekend you will allow me to ride with you....?" I offered, hoping to divert the conversation and leaned closer to Suzanne to draw her attention away from Philippa.

Suzanne seemed to be easily side-tracked. "Oh, do you ride as well, Jamie? A man of many talents...eh?"

"Jamie was one of my star pupils," Philippa put in quickly, obviously glad to deflect the talk to a less controversial subject matter. "In fact as a family, Jamie, his sister and cousins racked up a considerable number of trophies for amateur show jumping and eventing a few years back... they were all very good..." I thought I detected a note of pride in her statement but then she had been our teacher. The immediate threat of conflict seemed to have been diffracted and so I decided it was probably best to quit whilst I was ahead.

"I think that we had better be on our way, Philippa...." I suggested, glancing at my watch. "We appear to be the last customers and I am sure the Suzanne's staff want to get cleared away for the night...."

It was getting towards eleven o'clock and Suzanne did not make any attempt to retain us, I guess that she wanted to finish work as well but when we got to the desk she waved my credit card away. "Please, have dinner tonight as my guests..." She insisted. "It has been so nice to meet you Philippa.... I am sure that we can become good friends and associates..."

The two women exchanged polite air kisses and then Suzanne stepped up to me and gave me a friendly hug and a kiss on the cheek. She was actually Maggie's client and this was only the second time that we had met.

"I know that Maggie de Vere is looking after the gardening work here.... but feel free to come over and visit at any time.... perhaps we can have lunch together soon?" Suzanne breathed quietly and held onto my arm as she walked us back to our car.

"Er....yes...thankyou, Suzanne," I stuttered in reply. I did not want to offend her but I detected a hint of a come-on in her voice and felt that I would be getting into dangerous waters if I accepted too readily. "Perhaps I will come over with Maggie next time she comes out to see how the work is progressing...." I was glad that the contract had already been assigned to Colin as the primary landscaper and that I would probably have very little to do with it. Suzanne was nice and I found her attractive but she was a married client and there was a tendency for my prick to rule my head when it came to women. Philippa did not seem to notice the flirting or was disinterested but I was glad it was not Maggie I was with she would have given me real stick and teased me for days about it.

We were probably a good ten minutes down the A36 before Philippa broke the silence by asking me for a cigarette. It was strange but I had spent a good amount of time in her presence over the years and could not remember seeing her smoke and so I usually refrained in her company. I tugged the packet from my jacket pocket and passed it to her.

"Light me one as well, would you please?" I asked. She lit two tubes and passed one to me and I pushed the button to open the electric window on my side of the car. "So did you get anything out of this evening....?" I eventually asked.

"Yes, actually.... A lot....it had helped me to understand the potential for my own estate..." she replied. I thought that she still sounded a bit subdued, very unlike Philippa, she was usually aggressively energetic and vibrant. She paused for a minute, buzzed her window down and flicked the cigarette tip away. "I'm sorry, Jamie... for losing it earlier...." She added quietly.

Now that definitely was not Philippa's style. She never apologised. As a former Olympic rider and champion three day eventer she was tough and relentless and had taught her students to be the same way. Emma and Lulu had been show jumpers but Luci and I were on the junior eventing team what Philippa called her 'Rough Riders' and I can remember her drilling the rules into us "Trust your horse! Have confidence in yourself! and Never apologise or show weakness in front of the competition!" I have seen her reduce an entire beginner class of seven year olds to tears with a single glare and then stun them into total silence with a second glance. Oddly she never frightened me and I guess that was why I was one of her favourite students we always respected each other.

"OK, so what is going on Philippa?" I asked firmly, "I really think that you need to bring me into the loop if it is something that may affect the project....!" I took a cigarette and lit it then flicked the packet across the dashboard to her. She ignored it and shook her head.

"I guess that you don't know that Jorge Segura, my ex-husband is in England and has been bleating to the fucking newspapers.... Causing waves....!" She was starting to sound angry now, in truth I was more comfortable with that than with the depressed attitude.

"I don't really pay much attention to the gossip columns..." I told her, "Besides, I have been away for a few days otherwise either Emma or Jan might have mentioned it to me..." We were approaching The Hollow and so I turned right into Duck Street to take the back road to the stables avoiding having to unlock and open the main gate. It was a convoluted route between the fields, which we used to ride to exercise the horses, but I could drive up to Shelby House without coming in through the stable yard and disturbing Janice who had a flat over the old tack room.

"So what exactly is the problem?" I persisted, "I thought that your marriage was over years ago and your ex had returned to Argentina....?"

"Chile," She corrected, "He is actually Chilean but played polo for the Argentinian team. To cut a long story short Jorge has somehow got wind of my intention to expand the stables and is making claims that the idea of an equestrian centre was originally his, and that he should be entitled to a part of the business."

"But I thought that the house and stables were yours.... Inherited from your father and grandfather?"

"They are.... Jorge has no bloody claim what-so-ever!" She growled. "The man is nothing more than a chancer... he wasted his own inheritance in Chile, he spent most of his mother's money and would have spent mine as well if I had not divorced him.... I refused to pay his debts and he was declared a bankrupt in Britain and had to run back to South America."

I pulled up at the rear gate and used Philippa's keys to unlock the padlock, pulled in and refastened the lock. I would leave by the main gate as it had a self-closing lock. The car park for the stables was empty apart from the company Landrover which Janice had use of and so I guessed that my sister had gone home, or that the girls had gone into town and were not back yet. We sat outside the house quietly for a minute or two.

"If he is an undischarged bankrupt then surely he cannot hold any position in a British business....can he?" I asked.

"There is no question of that.... The problem is that Jorge is a celebrity and very personable; people believe what he tells them and a couple of the potential investors for my project are making noises about supporting his claim."

"So what are you going to do.... Does this threaten the viability of the scheme?" I enquired.

"I am going to tell him and his supporters to FUCK OFF!" She spat. This was the real Philippa Shelby, full of vim and fight. "My solicitor believes he is just trying for a pay-off and we should call his bluff.....and then tell him to shove it where the sun doesn't shine!"

"Which lawyers are you using?"

"The family solicitor... Georgia Craven. Her father's firm handled all of my father's business and now she looks after mine."

"Georgia is about the best there is..." I confirmed. With Scary Georgia on the case her ex would be well advised to high tail it back to Chile; those two women would turn him inside out and feed his remains to the ducks in Hyde Park. "What will you do if some of your investors pull out?

"I shall just have to look elsewhere....or as a last resort use more of my own money.... But one way or another this project is still going ahead and Señor Jorge Segura can go stuff himself...!"

I got down from the driver's seat and walked around the Range Rover to open the passenger door for her. I handed her the folder of notes, drawings and photographs. "Take a look at this in detail and then we can agree a start date..." I said.

"So you are not going to back off then...?" She asked with a sigh of relief.

"Fuck no!" I laughed. "I really want to do this project for you..... It is important historically .... And it's important to me because we are friends...OK?"

"Thanks Jamie," She said. "So what now.... Are you going to come in for a nightcap...? We could have another look at those drawings...over a large whisky.....I have some 14 year old malt decanted....? She started to walk back towards the house. I watched her arse in that tight red and black dress as she climbed the steps to the front door and then locked the range Rover and followed her.

I had only been in the main part of Shelby House a couple of times and stepping through the front door into the entrance hall I was taken by surprise. Philippa had obviously not wasted any time in pressing ahead with her plans and already had the builders and decorators working on the interior of the house. The chandelier that hung in the hall above the divided mahogany staircase was covered in plastic sheeting and was temporarily replaced with a working lamp with a bare 150 watt bulb which lit the centre of the room but threw deep shadows along the walls and the corridors leading to the rear of the house either side of the stairs. A reception desk and office was being constructed to the right of the main door and the staircase was lined with protective matting to protect the polished wooden treads from the workmen's boots.

"Wow.... You have been busy...." I enthused.

"I told you that nothing was going to stop me going ahead with the project..." She stated firmly, "The electricians and plumbers are starting downstairs next week to bring the old kitchens up to spec to serve the restaurant which will be going into the old dining room by the terrace...." She took hold of my hand and squeezed it, "That was one of your suggestions, remember... tables on the terrace in the summer, overlooking the gardens."

We came to the top of the staircase and turned left. Philippa had converted the west wing of the first floor into a modern apartment for her own use, however as she reached for the door handle we both paused.

"Did you hear that?" She whispered.

"Yeah...I heard something....it sounded like somebody walking about downstairs...."

I guess we both had the same thought at the same time..."Jorge?" We both hissed together. "He might have sent somebody to break-in and look for paperwork or contracts.... That would be about his style!" Philippa added. Breaking into one of these old mansions would not be at all difficult for an experienced burglar.

"Wait here." She ordered and slipped through the door into her apartment emerging a few moments later armed with a vintage Holland and Holland 12-bore side-by-side shotgun. "Are you coming?" she asked and stepped towards the top of the staircase.

"Whoa... wouldn't we be better calling the police?" I cautioned.

"They will take bloody hours to get here this time of night on a Friday with the pubs full of drunks..."

"You had better give me the gun...." I suggested.

"Why? Have you ever shot anything?" She breathed.

"Er... only clays," I admitted. "But I am quite a good shot..."

"I think I will keep it...." She grinned. "This is my house....if anybody is going to get shot in it....I shall do the shooting! If it is my ex-husband I want the pleasure of personally blowing his balls off!"

We began to descend the main staircase on tip toe side by side. This whole episode was beginning to feel like a bloody Abbot and Costello film.... Except that it was real and Philippa had a real shotgun and it was guaranteed to be loaded and if the intruder was Jorge then he was likely to get his balls blown off for real....

We crept along the corridor which led to the old original kitchens and scullery. The kitchen was massive, with a flag stoned floor, it was now unused and had recently been given a new coat of white emulsion and there were dozens of boxes of ceramic tiles and several large boxed up commercial cookers and fridges obviously waiting to be fitted in place and a huge scrubbed pine table occupying the centre. There was a door at the rear of the kitchen which stood open that I knew led into a long passageway which transversed the whole width of the building leading to Philippa's robing room and the old servants stairs to the upper floors. I paused to pick up a three foot length of 1" copper pipe, not a brilliant weapon but better than nothing. There was a light faintly showing at the end of the passage as we stepped into the doorway Philippa probing ahead with the twin barrels of the shotgun.

Suddenly there was a familiar clanking and a hiss of rushing water and together we both realised what had caused us so much alarm. Janice had come home and was taking a shower before going to bed. There was no bathroom in her flat above the stables and Philippa allowed her to use the ancient and noisy swan neck shower in the robing room at the main house. I knew the room well, I had shared a shower with Janice after riding last year and had sat and waited for Philippa to shower and change the first time that we had shagged a few months back.